


kith and kin

by ninemoons42



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition - Kiriya - Original Flavor [17]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abusive Parents, Established Relationship, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Judgment, Past Abuse, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4958578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four strangers come to Skyhold in search of a Trevelyan and not an Inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kith and kin

Kiriya opened her eyes.

Familiar hole in the roof; familiar view of star-streaked skies. A clear night, and quiet in the room, for once. 

She looked over to her right and observed the steady rise and fall of Cullen’s chest. A reassuring sight, this -- to see him wrapped in his blanket and a semblance of calm, temporarily freed from the terrors that stalked his dreams. 

Still, he was a light sleeper and she had to be careful when she reached out to him. A delicate touch to his shoulder, just enough to soak in the warmth that he threw off; a brush over his loose golden curls. 

She pressed a kiss to the back of his head, and another -- she filled her senses with the scent of the soap that he used, with the salt of his skin and the ink that lingered on his hands -- and reluctantly slid from the bed. His tunic was lying discarded on the floor next to his armor stand and she pulled it on over her head, its sleeves falling well past her fingertips, its neckline wide enough to droop partway down one of her shoulders.

Smalls and trousers on after that, and she slid down the ladder to his office. The fire had burned most of last night’s log down, and she stoked the coals and put some more wood on, and soon the office was comfortable, almost toasty -- she took Cullen’s chair and put her feet up on the desk, staring contemplatively out one of the arrow-slit windows.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she was starting to wonder if she’d ever really feel warm again when there was a knock, and one of the doors began to creak open -- 

“I -- Inquisitor,” the young messenger said, sounding startled. “I apologize. I had been expecting to find the Commander -- ”

Kiriya put her finger to her lips. “Hush. He is sleeping. I will take the message to him.”

“Actually,” and the woman shuffled her feet, “the message is for _you_. But we’re under orders to see him first, should we feel you might be threatened.”

Kiriya frowned, and held out her hand. “Tell me.”

“Kiriya,” said a voice from overhead.

“Down here.”

“I heard voices.” Cullen came down the ladder, booted and clothed and with his sword belted on.

The messenger immediately snapped to attention. 

“Tell me,” Kiriya said, again. 

“Yes, Inquisitor. A party of Templars and Chantry sisters. They wish to speak with you personally.”

Kiriya glanced at Cullen, who frowned at the messenger. “You’ll have to tell them to meet with Ambassador Montilyet,” he said. “And that won’t be for another few hours.”

“That’s the problem, Commander,” the woman said. “They will only speak to Kiriya Trevelyan. Those are their exact words.”

“A moment,” Kiriya murmured, and stepped toward the practice dummy in the corner. 

Cullen looked worried when he joined her and took her hand. “That sounds ominous.”

“It sounds like the beginning of a very bad mystery novel, the sort Varric would throw into a fire off hand,” she muttered, and had he not been a welcome warm anchor she’d break away and start to pace. “I’d put this off till the morning if I could.”

“You could still do that.”

“They’re not asking for the Inquisitor, Cullen -- they’re asking for _me_.” She bit absently at the inside of her cheek. “Better to know now.”

“At least you should -- ” And she watched him gesture to his shoulders.

“Right. Armed and armored. Good idea.” She turned back to the messenger. “Please escort this party you speak of to the Throne Room. The Commander and I will see them there.”

“Yes, Inquisitor,” the woman said, and moved off.

“I’ll see you in a few moments,” Cullen whispered.

She pulled him down to her for a kiss. Brief, but not chaste: she wanted the taste of him on her tongue, just in case. She wanted to walk into danger, if danger it was, with him under her skin.

To her quarters, then: and she added a few more knives to the seams of her armor and the tops of her boots. A necklace-stiletto hanging into the small of her back. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would have to suffice, and she threaded the still-sleeping steps of Skyhold as though she were walking unarmed and naked into enemy territory.

Light under a door, flickering -- and when she pushed into the small space that adjoined the Throne Room she rocked back on her heels in surprise. “I had not asked for anyone else to be awakened,” she began.

“Forgive me,” Cullen said. “I took the initiative.”

She crossed the room and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“I have been told,” Cassandra said, looking concerned and thunderous at the same time, “that these newcomers do not seek the Inquisitor.”

“They want to see a Trevelyan,” Josephine said as she glided to Kiriya’s other side. Kiriya couldn’t help but envy her her freshly-pressed skirts and the neatly applied rouge on her cheeks; she could only feel sleepless and knew she looked it. Self-consciously she reached up and ran a gloved hand roughly through her hair.

“And it’s you they’ll get, with all of us standing with you,” Leliana said, nodding sternly.

Kiriya crossed to her and shook her hand.

And then she took a deep breath and strode to the door that opened on to the Throne Room. Shoulders straight, head held high.

Four women stood in a ragged line before the dais: two in Templar armor, two in the robes of the Chantry. Travel-stained and cold-weary, bits of snow melting upon their shoulders.

Kiriya took one step down to them, and looked at their faces, and froze.

A shadow on the dais, moving towards her -- she shook her head minutely at Cassandra, who glowered at her for an instant before addressing the women. “You have come seeking Kiriya Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor. Who are you that I might present you to her?”

The woman on the leftmost end of the line went quickly down to one knee. Clank of Templar armor, hair shorn down to stubble, silver at her temples. The hand on her sword was missing its little finger. She rose to speak in a hoarse but carrying voice. “Forgive us the intrusion. Our errand was urgent. I am -- I am Katerinne Trevelyan, and these are my sisters and companions Marya Trevelyan, Yelena Trevelyan, and Elisavet Trevelyan. We come seeking our youngest sister. Our lost sister.”

Rustling behind her, and a familiar presence on her other side, and Cullen had laid a hand between her shoulders and she was grateful for the steadying presence of him. 

The other woman in armor stepped forward, allowing her to see that face, the last familiar face she’d seen, all those years ago before stealing out into the night: and Kiriya choked on the words, on the sob rising in her throat, before moving towards her. “Elisavet,” she said, quietly.

Deep pained lines around Elisavet’s smile. “Kiriya. Sister. It’s so good to see you again. Words cannot express how happy I am that you are here.”

“You’re all alive, all of you -- how -- ” And Kiriya suddenly found herself gritting her teeth. “How are you here? Who sent you?” She took a step back, toward her friends. “Not -- not _him_ ,” she hissed. “Don’t tell me he sent you.”

“No!” Katerinne said, holding out a hand. “Not him. Never him. We came to you on our own.”

“Why?”

“To join you and your cause.”

Kiriya looked to her sisters, and looked to her friends, and whispered, “I don’t know -- ”

Josephine cleared her throat, then. “This is no place for us to speak of weighty matters. Let us sit, and have a proper conversation. Messeres Trevelyan, I would ask you to follow me to one of the sitting rooms; the Inquisitor will follow shortly.”

As soon as one of the doors of the Throne Room had closed on them Kiriya sat down, hard, on the dais. Tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She could feel her hands shaking as she covered her face. “Of all the things -- of all the people -- ”

Someone thrust a cup at her, and she gulped down the wine it contained. “More?” Cassandra asked.

Kiriya shook her head.

“Are they really your family? Do you know them for certain?” Leliana asked.

“Elisavet at least I recognize,” Kiriya said, leaning on Cullen’s shoulder as he sat down next to her. “Same eyes. Same hair.” She reached down the back of her armor and pulled out the stiletto on its sturdy chain. “I saw the other blade she was carrying, belted at her waist. Twin to this blade. I stole this one from her.”

“And the others?” 

She shook her head. “I can just about remember Katerinne. Something about her face,” and she gestured vaguely at her own nose. “The others, Marya and Yelena -- they look right. They look familiar.”

“You don’t trust them,” Cullen said, snaking an arm around her shoulders.

“Bann Trevelyan’s fault. One more sin to lay at his feet,” Kiriya said. “I want to believe that they’re here. But -- knowing that he’s still out there, that he could still be plotting, against us, against me -- ”

She looked up at Cassandra’s quiet growl. “You should not speak to them any further than you already have.”

“I wish I could. But -- maybe being the Inquisitor has taught me something,” Kiriya said, scrubbing her hands through her hair again. “I must hear them out. I must give them the opportunity to speak their piece. Only then can I judge them true or false.” 

“We’ll be with you,” Cullen murmured, chafing warmth into her upper arm.

“Thank you.” She rose, then, and took a deep breath. “The sooner we get started, right?”

Muttering in her wake as she left the Throne Room, as she made her way to the chamber where Josephine and the others were waiting. 

Here the lights blazed from the corners of the room. Here there was a long table to sit at. Her sisters ranged along one side, and Josephine sitting primly across from them, seemingly absorbed in her papers. Kiriya sat next to her, then leaned in and whispered, “Anything useful?”

“Elisavet showed us a knife. A stiletto. She said you carried its companion.”

Kiriya nodded, and passed that knife to Josephine, who nodded and placed it carefully onto the table, and then cleared her throat. In her richly trilling voice she said, “I come from Antiva, and in that place we have a tradition about words spoken over blades. Therefore I enjoin you to speak only the truth.”

Whispers and nods -- and both Katerinne and Elisavet drew their swords. Bright shining lethal edges against the fine wood. “We bare our hearts to you as we do our blades,” Katerinne said.

“And we would like to begin by, by reassuring you,” said the woman sitting next to Katerinne. “I don’t know if you remember me, Kiriya.”

“Marya,” Kiriya said, gripping the armrests.

“Yes. I, I understand why you lashed out at us. Am I correct in guessing that _that man_ has tried to reach you here?”

“If you speak of Bann Trevelyan,” Leliana said, coldly, “he has been demanding that the Inquisitor go to him -- and if it is your plan to deceive us and carry out his orders -- ”

“Peace,” Marya said, and then she took off her coif, and held her hair away from her face and her neck.

A ring of scars around her throat, old and faded -- but Kiriya could read their positions. The positions of armored hands. 

“I will listen to no word from my father -- or should I say, the man who used to be my father. As you can see, he has lost all right to that position.” Kiriya made herself meet Marya’s eyes as she continued: “He came to see me soon after you left Elisavet, and demanded I produce you, or reveal to him your whereabouts. I had, of course, nothing to say to him -- and this was his response. He nearly killed me -- three days I lay unconscious, or so my brothers and sisters told me.” 

“Marya wrote to me,” Katerinne said, taking up the tale, “and I in turn wrote to Elisavet, and -- well, that is her part of the story to tell.”

“You paid me no heed, when I was sent to you,” Kiriya said, pinning the other Templar under her gaze. “You didn’t even _react_ when I took your knife.”

“All for a reason.” Elisavet looked haunted. “It would have been remiss of me not to know what you were planning -- I could see it so clearly in your eyes, in your face. But I could not encourage you, not in a place where he could have placed someone to watch us both. All I could do was look the other way. Do nothing about your escape. _Know nothing._ I hoped that my silence would protect you. I could only weep when you left so abruptly -- I desperately wanted to give you more help. I wanted to go with you. All I could do was be left behind, with you thinking I didn’t care.”

For a moment her quiet, grief-wracked sobs were the only sounds in the room.

Then the woman who was sitting next to her took her hand and nodded at Kiriya and her companions. “Eventually Elisavet was posted to my chantry and I had the whole tale from her -- ”

“And we found a way for all of us to meet: Yelena and Katerinne and Elisavet and I,” Marya said. “We talked of looking for you. Of going to the Queen and asking her to remove Bann Trevelyan from his position, with one of us taking it up in his stead. So many things we wished we could do.”

“So much we never got around to,” Katerinne finally said. “There was a war. Some of you will surely have heard of it -- you in particular,” and Kiriya was startled when her sister nodded in Cullen’s direction. “I know you, or I know _of_ you. Cullen Rutherford. You left your Templar honors behind, but I remember what you did for us in Kirkwall. You tried to hold our ranks together. I’m grateful for that.” 

Kiriya took his hand and held on tightly.

“We convinced her to leave, Marya and I,” Yelena said. “To find our sister, and a cause to dedicate ourselves to -- and so we heard of the Inquisition. We heard of its leader, and the people rallying behind her -- but news does not travel swiftly to us and we did not know of that leader’s _name_ until we had crossed half the Dales.” 

“And now?” Josephine asked. “Now that you know?”

“Then we stay, and serve. And do what we can to avoid messages from Ostwick.” Kiriya knew the hard look in Katerinne’s eyes, then -- she’d seen it before, in her own mirror. “Should Bann Trevelyan make the mistake of coming here, I will have nothing to offer him but the sharp edge of my blade.”

Silence, and then, finally, Cassandra turned and Kiriya met her eyes head-on. “As you said earlier, Inquisitor, they have told their tale. Their fate lies now in your hands.”

Kiriya closed her eyes. Tried to remember. Elisavet’s face was most prominent in her memories, but she could also remember Yelena reading adventure stories just for her, and brief glimpses of Marya and Katerinne.

“If you are true in your words and in your intentions,” she said at last, “you will not object to being watched. Or to having people we trust put in positions of authority over you.” 

“No objections,” Katerinne said.

“And if you’ve come to serve -- then _serve_ you must, as we all do. Marya, Yelena, I understand by your robes that you are clerics? Perhaps the library would be a good place for you to stay for now.”

“I would love to see your library,” Yelena said while Marya nodded next to her.

Leliana nodded, as well, and Kiriya went to her and spoke quietly. “I might be able to ask Dorian to watch them.”

“Do what you can, Inquisitor,” was the equally murmured response. “I will also do what I can.”

Returning to her seat, Kiriya turned to the man at her side. “Cullen. You know what I’ll ask.”

“I do, and I will.” She watched him turn to her sisters. “Katerinne Trevelyan. Elisavet Trevelyan. I must warn you that things are different here. We work _with_ the mages, and I don’t mean to contain them or to cage them. We train together, and we continue to learn to work together. You may well find yourselves teaching them, or learning from them, as necessary. Do you have any objections to this?”

“None,” Elisavet said. 

“Then I’ll have you shown to some rooms,” Josephine began.

Kiriya held up a hand. “I wish to speak to them, first.”

“Is this wise?”

“It’ll have to be. And Cullen will be with me.”

“Then we’ll withdraw. Are we still leaving in three days?” Cassandra asked.

“Yes,” Kiriya said. And, more softly, to Cullen: “Wait for me?”

“Call me if you need me,” he said, and she wanted to kiss him, or wanted him to kiss her.

Instead she approached her sisters and said, “We’ve never -- never actually met each other like this, all of us in the same place at the same time. Would that it were under better circumstances, I think is the right thing to say.”

It was Elisavet who came forward. “I hope that in time we’ll be able to _be_ family. All we have now is each other.”

Kiriya took her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> References the story that Kiriya told Cullen in [don't look back again](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4770740).
> 
> I am also on [tumblr](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/) and my Dragon Age: Inquisition blog is [here](http://ninemoons42-inquisition.tumblr.com/).


End file.
